I'd Listen to it Forever
by threeletterwords
Summary: What if all you had left of a person was a voicemail? Would you ever stop listening? Blaine waits for a comatose Kurt to come back to him, obsessively replaying his final shred of the man he loves. Not character death! Just some character... maiming...
1. Chapter 1

A/N~ Alrighty. So I'm noticing a pattern. I write Blaine getting all emotional about Kurt for like a 30 minute rant at a time, before collapsing into relief or kisses. I swear some stuff I write actually has _dialogue_. IT DOES. This is a story about Kurt being injured or something (again...) and Blaine mourning his possible loss, while listening endlessly to the 'leave a message' recording of Kurt's voice. Not character death. I swear. I was inspired my criminal minds! My other fandom, from the episode 'True Knight'. YEAH. Anywho. Read on MacDuff.

_Hey there, it's Kurt. I'm afraid I can't present you with my fabulous self, as I'm probably doing something terribly productive like buying the newest jacket in the marc jacobs line, or spending time with my wonderful boyfriend. Sorry about tha- Blaine, put that down! Erm - yeah, so, uh, the beeps coming up. Leave a message! You know you want to. So do your thing. I'll always get back to you, unless you're a telemarketer, or, you know. Crazy. Thanks!_

He couldn't put the phone down. Every hour or so, he would try to loosen his clutch on the device until the screen went dark from inactivity, fingers itching for redial, mind screaming and rattling it's cage in protest. He would try to resist it's hold, try to chuck it across the room, and watch, in smug satisfaction, as it shattered to pieces. He kept the useless battle going until he wanted to collapse in the exhaustion of not hearing the soft lilt of his voice.

_Hey there..._

And he always lost. Always listened. Because how could he not? The voice he would give anything to hear in person, that... that melodious, snarky, sarcastic, passionate, _beautiful_ voice.

And all he had was a 30 second voice message.

His breathing grew erratic again, tears streaming, hot and fast from the corners of his eyes.

_It's Kurt._

Kurt. Kurt was all he had. All he needed. Every morning, before the fog of sleep cleared, before he knew who he was or where he was... before he could even remember to breathe, Kurt's name was on his lips. And it stayed there all day long. He made him smile simply by being. When his name was uttered, or even a name that sounded like it- (included in that list had been names like Roberta and Fredrique that Blaine had taken to be Kurt in his love addled brain) Blaine's whole being shifted. His eyebrows lifted, breath hitched, he swiveled immediately in the direction of the poor sucker who had spoken _the_ word, and his blinding grin almost certainly wiped out rooms full of people. Kurt was in his gut now, the sass, the hair that gained or lost volume depending on his mood, the effortless kindness to the people he cared about, and sometimes the people he didn't.

Blaine was too in love to breathe. He was drowning, air swiped from his lungs, happily dying in a sea of Kurt.

Every day was beautiful, to be cherished and locked away in a trunk of memories to be examined fondly in years to come.

It didn't matter that they fought. He even loved that. Loved the passion, the fire in his eyes when he was spitting scathing retorts in someone's face, loved the aching remorse etched into his features when he came to his senses.

It wasn't fair how much he loved him. Because fate was a bitch.

And he was gone.

_I'm afraid I can't present you with my fabulous self..._

And suddenly he was drowning in the far less favorable grief. What if he couldn't smooth down Kurt's hair fondly, and chuckle at his squawk of protest?

What if he couldn't lie with him in a mess of comforters, soft smiles on their faces, basking in the afterglow?

What is he couldn't grin at him across a crowded room, or propose to him just like he'd want, or buy him a non fat mocha, and smile reminiscently, or just hold him, or hell, yell at him? He'd take it, he'd take anything. He'd kill himself a minute after, if he could have Kurt back. Bring his beautiful warmth back into the world, let him set fire to the drab grey of the world without him, and be _them_. Just for a second.

He missed his smell. A silly thing to miss about a person. He smelled like lilac and mint and coffee and home. He could inhale that perfect blend at the soft warmth of his neck, and know he was safe and loved. He wanted to crawl inside that safety and lie there in the nest of Kurt's arms until he died.

Oh god, he couldn't do it. Every time he closed his eyes, he got flashes, of Kurt running away from him in the rain, laughing at a forgotten joke. Of the world falling to pieces when he brought him forward by the tie to a mind bending kiss. He could see him, smiling, grinning at Blaine in lost hilarity, shouting at him over the impossibly loud dance beat, or cutting through uneasy silence of an unwanted quarrel. Dancing, twirling around wildly to a beat he could no longer hear, singing, with an unearthly beauty, and unmatchable passion, sighing softly into a passionate kiss, spread out beneath him, flushed in pleasure, laughing, always laughing, in his mind. Like he had so exasperatedly in that recorded voice he couldn't get enough of.

He couldn't clear it. Couldn't get the imprint of Kurt, of everything Kurt had ever done off his mind. It was seared into his retinas, so even the darkness of sleep couldn't protect him. Kurt Hummel had altered his perception of the world. He couldn't go back. Didn't want to go back, to a world where he wasn't in his. Rocking it. Changing it. Storming through it, reorganizing it, and turning to him with a winning smile, that he could. Not. Say no to.

_I'm probably doing something terribly productive, like buying the newest jacket in the marc jacobs line..._

He had, after all, been looking for him forever. And now he was lost again, like the flickering flames of a dying candle. His brightness had fizzled into nothingness the same time his consciousness had. He'd flared, a glorious warmth, briefly illuminating lost things and new treasures for Blaine before he'd slipped out of his grasp.

And he couldn't see.

He was stumbling through darkness, looking for something, anything to support him, to cling to now that the light had gone out, and plunged his life into darkness.

He choked on the dense air, when he realized the thing he was searching for in that dark was always Kurt. He kept imagining he'd casually flick a switch and smile smugly at him, seated comfortably in the new light of Blaine's existence, and assure him, he'd been there all along. But he wasn't. And he couldn't see.

So now, all he had was that stupid message.

And every time, his heart would beat again, momentarily tricked into believing Kurt was lighting a match... and then it would die as soon as the beep sounded. He grew to resent that beep. And every time, his heart would fall for it again. Every time it hurt a little more.

So he wept. He wept because he didn't know how to live anymore. He wept at nothing, because Kurt couldn't experience that nothing with him, couldn't transform it into the beautiful something that every moment he spent with him was. And he listened. Again, and again, and again.

Until he fell into a dream world, where memories saw their opportunity, and attacked him, bombarded him from all sides. They swept his legs and pinned him down with the force of them. Kurt smiling, and laughing and spinning and screaming all at once. Bad memories and good ones, and breathlessness, and I love you's, and massages and coffee shops, and friends at the movies, and making out heatedly instead of watching Tony and Maria kiss onscreen, and New York, and the world just sitting out there and waiting, _waiting_ to be taken by the two of them. To be shared by the two of them.

_... or spending time with my wonderful boyfriend._

In his dreams, Kurt was everywhere, and his heart fell apart. Badly slapped on bandages fell away, and the pieces shattered into fragments that Blaine was sure only Kurt would know exactly how to put together again.

That puzzle refused to be solved right now. So the black hole of his chest wept blood and sorrow to an unforgiving world.

He couldn't comprehend it. He kept looking up at the door with an expectant grin plastered onto his features, only to break down into hysterical sobs when he remembered. And he couldn't do it. He didn't have the courage, not like Kurt had. He didn't have anything of what he used to without his boyfriend to remind him why he had it. All he had, _all he had now,_ was a voice on a phone.

He listened to it until he went insane, buried in Kurt's scent in the corner of his bedroom, tears streaming endlessly, heart irreparable.

_Sorry about that._

Until Burt crashed through the door and said 14 words that changed everything.

"Kurt's alive! He woke up, he actually woke up! He's asking for you, Blaine."

The pieces were inexplicably mended, breath shoved back into his lungs, his world flooded with exquisite light, and a smooth hand offered to him, attached to the body of a boy with beautiful glasz eyes inviting him to take his life back.

_You know you want to..._

A cellphone lay forgotten on the floor.

_I'll always get back to you._

A/N~ Alright, alright, neck deep in cliches. But they're pretty ones aren't they? At least when attached to my boys here. I like how I call them my boys like I'm not just a crazed fangirl.

So, you like? I own neither criminal minds nor glee. That sentence makes me sad. But it's true. Aaaand, I will flail wildly with joy if you drop me a review. Seriously, I'm not kidding, it makes my LIFE. So yeah. Please do. :)


	2. Chapter 2

A/N~ As per popular request - okay, one request. But... I kind of wanted to anyway so it only took one. XD - I decided to write a second part in which Blaine and Kurt reuinte. I don't know how I feel about it, just typed it up like an hour ago, so... I hope it's not utter crap. Enjoy!

Blaine didn't think he'd ever really understood the phrase tunnel vision until now. Everything was dark and blurry, not unworthy of his gaze, but impossible to focus on. Impossible, when he knew Kurt was at the end of that tunnel, bloodied, battered...

But alive.

He picked up the pace, and faintly recalled how ridiculous he must look, running faster than he ever had before, sharp staccato of his footsteps vaguely registering in his mind, in perfect unison with the pounding of his heart. Sobs wracked his body, face screwed up in anxious hope, and he _sprinted_ for Kurt's room, a steady waterfall of tears streaking his face, and darkening the collar of his shirt, until he looked sufficiently insane.

And yet no one looked. No one commented. This was a hospital, and he imagined a desperate run broke out at least once a day.

He was meters away, _meters_, a hand outstretched towards the sanity that warm glow promised him, and he skidded that last foot to the peeling door -

And then arms pulled him back.

He let out a strangled cry of shock and outrage that someone had had the nerve to prevent him from seeing Kurt. From stopping a man who looked like he did, so obviously wrecked. So obviously in love.

He struggled desperately, against his captors arms, cursing rather violently under his breath.

"No! Let me go, I have to see him, I have to. You don't understand!" A rush of tears followed, and he hated himself for not being stronger. Burt's gruff, but soothing tenor, washed over him, dousing him in shock.

"Blaine, you have to stop struggling. I may be spry an' all, but I'm not made for this kind of moving anymore..."

"Burt? Why... I have to see Kurt, I need him, please-"

"I know kid. I know you do. But we can't just barge in there son. This isn't prime time. We have to check in. Maybe even give him some time to recover. I'm sorry Blaine, but..." His still form suddenly started thrashing again, catching Burt by surprise, so that his grip loosened just enough that Blaine could wrestle free.

"If you think I'm waiting until tomorrow, you're insane. You honestly don't get it Burt. It's like this constant ache... like my heart has been in a vice for 2 weeks, and now, now all I need is one smile from him, and I could be free-" At another time he might have been ashamed at suddenly waxing poetic to Kurt's father, but it was the only way he could put it that anyone would understand.

"I do know." Burt had a sudden fire in his eyes. The two men stood facing each other now, breathing heavily from their scuffle, eyes wide and overflowing with emotion.

"I was in love once. Elizabeth was the most _beautiful_ thing..." He trailed off with an adoring look in his eyes. Blaine looked away.

"And I lost her. So don't tell me I don't get it Blaine." For the first time in their entire, awkward, Kurt based relationship... he heard a quaver in his voice.

Blaine spoke quietly in return, a whisper easily picked up by the steady whir of machinery around them.

"Then you know I can't walk away right now." Burt studied him carefully. The boy he'd seen glimpses of at Friday night dinners, and date pick ups. The boy who was now crumpled in on himself, head bowed, not really by choice, but because the effort of looking up at people like he was okay had weighed down on him, until eye contact was impossible. His hands trembled violently at his sides, face pale and twisted in grief. Blaine was sick with fear, and desperately in love with his boy.

He nodded once.

He needed no further confirmation. Blaine was closing that final gap in one step, wrenching the door open savagely, half expecting it to come off its hinges, half _wanting_ it to come off its hinges, because how dare it come between him and Kurt? No one was allowed to do that. Not anymore.

The heavy wood bounced off the wall beside it with a loud echoing bang. He stood, frozen in the doorway, time suspended in a moment of clarity. His voice ground out a single word without his permission. The word he'd been speaking to himself in a constant mantra, falling under the heavy weight of grief every time no one responded.

"Kurt?"

The boy's head whipped around at the sound of Blaine's voice, and his face melted into an expression of pure relief. He offered him a soft smile.

"You're here." Blaine's shoulders sagged, and he felt the bindings around his heart unlock... could almost hear them fall away with a metallic clank. He found him.

The world, which had been tilted off it's axis, righted itself, everything bathed in soft light, and exquisite happiness. He wasn't really aware of running for the bed until he was there, so close to him, breathing in his familiar scent, and reaching frantically for confirmation that he was, indeed, here. His breathing became erratic after mere seconds of gazing at his boyfriend, everything else but them too fast, too bright. He collapsed at Kurt's bedside, sobbing so violently that he feared something in his lungs would explode. He heaved out a choked cry of Kurt's name, tugging at any part of him he could get to, head buried into his side, hands tightly fisted in the hospital issued fabric at his hips.

"Shh, baby... Blaine? Blaine, you're scaring me. Blaine... please don't cry. I can't... I hate it when you cry." Blaine's head raised, and he let out a shuddering breath when he took in the concern on Kurt's slightly bruise marred face. He scrambled to his feet, shaking hands darting out to wrap themselves around Kurt's face. Kurt's rose to slide on top of them, a hopeful smile lifting the corner of his lips. Blaine's quivered now, face twisted in longing, in pent up sorrow.

"I thought I lost you." He whispered it, the simplest statement he could offer.

It was enough.

His hands were careful on his perfect skin, handling him like he could shatter into irreparable pieces, or fall away into the previous darkness of his life. Another tear rolled down his cheek and fell to Kurt's lap. Their eyes met for a long moment.

"I'm here." Blaine gave the first, watery smile he had in weeks, and leaned in without thought to kiss him urgently. He almost wept again at the beautiful pressure of his lips against his own.

"Kurt. Kurt. Kurt." He nuzzled his face into Kurt's temple, a lost bit of himself settling back into place, found in the comfort of his embrace.

"I love you so much. A-and I couldn't breathe without you, I couldn't-couldn't live without you. Do you understand, do you understand how much I love you? Because it's not enough, I can't show you how m-much you mean to me. Kurt... You're more than my world. You're everything, I don't even know..." He closed his eyes and tried desperately to get a handle on his raging emotions. He felt Kurt's hands slide into his hair, and relaxed immediately, despite everything. It always had that effect on him.

"I know. I know, because it's the same way I feel about you. Blaine, look at me." His eyelids slid open carefully, because what if he was still dreaming?

Kurt blinked back at him, and he was swept up in the ocean of his eyes, drowning again, in beautiful Kurt.

"I love you, you amazing, gorgeous, wonderful man. I love you." Blaine stroked a careful thumb over his jaw line, not daring to believe his extraordinary luck, and trying to control the tears that were once again threatening. He was tired of tears. The only thing tears could do now, was blur his view of the one thing he wanted to stare at forever.

"You were so still. I thought you were gone. I thought I'd never hear you laugh, or-or see you smile, or-" He choked on the very words that had haunted him for so long... Kurt grinned back at him.

"I'll always come back for you Blaine." He almost chuckled at that, so close to the words he'd been playing in a loop for days. His mind registered the possibilities of that almost chuckle through a mist of feelings that were clogging his usual thought processes. He could be happy. Kurt had given him his life, like he had two years ago on a Dalton staircase.

Kurt continued to smile, hands stroking through his curls, making that adorable expression he did when he was marveling at their softness.

"Seriously Blaine. There was no way I was leaving you, you get that? The day you get rid of me from a mere car crash... " He trailed off, shaking his head.

"All I'm saying is the great spaghetti monster in the sky is gonna have to rip me from your arms, got it?" The other boy nodded almost violently. Kurt laughed, and the rest of the world slid into nothingness.

Tunnel vision indeed.

A/N~ Yes? No? Should have quit while I was ahead? Let me know through the magic of reviewing. :)


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